


On The Other Hand

by zoundsmann



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Drama, General Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery Trio, Mystery Twins, Original Mystery Twins, Sibling Arguments, body swapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:52:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoundsmann/pseuds/zoundsmann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trio heads out on another expedition, but Stanford is worried that his brother's experiments are becoming more and more malicious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Other Hand

**Author's Note:**

> ***IMPORTANT*** In this story Stanley= The Author. Stanford= The Con man. Also, It may take me a while to do updates on this, due to life in general. Please enjoy! (Oh hey, also these characters are not mine)

     Stanford pines had been living in Gravity Falls with his brother for two years now. He knew things he shouldn't know and had seen things he should have never seen.  
     Luckily, he also knew how to keep his mouth shut.  
     He had always figured it was better if he stayed quiet during the important things. He knew he wasn't as intelligent as Fiddleford or Stanley, and that talking in times of peril wasn't his forte.  
     And so when the latest monster hunt came up, he simply grinned, snatched his brass knuckles from the table, and followed the other two outside.  
     "So what're we lookin' for today? Goblins? Ogres? A vegetable with a human face and emotions?" Stanley smirked at his brother's final addition, answering, as always, with,  
     "Stan, if you ever find a vegetable like that, I would be more than happy to examine it." He added, "But no, today we are in search of something far less...unusual. Within this very forest, our research shows that we should be able to find a unicorn."

     Silence.  
     Then laughter, as expected. Fiddleford blushed, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance creeping into his expression. Stanley simply waited for the laughter to subside.  
     Through gasping breaths, Stanford managed,  
     "Unicorns?? REALLY, bro??" Another bout of laughter shook him, "What should I be lookin' for then, a trail of glitter?? Rainbow hair??" Fiddleford cut him off quickly with a frantic whisper,  
     "Stanford, we must be quiet! The creature could be anywhere now, and we can't risk spookin' it! Not to mention all of the... other...things..." His voice trailed off nervously as he gripped at some device that was strung around his neck with a leather strap. Stanford raised an eyebrow and considered the tension in both his brother and Fiddleford,  
     "So what, are these things like, dangerous or something? Aren't they just horses with horns?"  
     "They are horses with horns and reality-bending powers that are extremely territorial. Or, so our research shows. We won't really know that until we actually find one." Stanley flipped through a desheveled-looking "local legends" book as they walked, reading excerpts from it to himself.  
     They went on in silence for a few more minutes before Stanford spoke up again,  
     "So uh, are we following a trail or...?" Fiddleford answered in hushed tones,  
     "It's been said that the beast leaves no footprints, no evidence of its passing at all!"  
     "Well isn't that magical," he responded with an eye roll, "So how exactly are we supposed to _FIND_  it?!" Birds flew from the towering pines above, startled by the harsh sound of his voice. Fiddleford quickly clamped a hand over Stanford's mouth and hissed,  
     " _Stanford_! You must. Be. Quiet!" He took a deep breath before removing his hand from Stan's mouth, ignoring the larger man's surprised expression, "The legends say that it will approach those with pure intentions..."  
     "And nothing is more pure than scientific curiosity." Stanley added, nose still buried in his book. Stanford scoffed, unconvinced by his twin's reasoning. He glanced at Mcgucket, who was tampering with the device slung around his neck,  
     "So uh...what's that for, nerd?" He scratched the back of his head self-consciously.  
Fiddleford looked up,  
     "Oh, it's to read atmospheric changes. Sudden drops in pressure can be indicative of the creature's illusions. It's a device of my own design," he said with a smile, some of his anxiousness melting off as his mind wandered away from the imminent threat of danger, "It's made from some old tape recorder parts and is hyper-sensitive to the pressure changes in the atmosphere." Stan raised an eyebrow,  
     "Right sure, listen that's fascinating and all, but couldn't you just have, I dunno...used a barometer?"  
     "Well I--" Fiddleford paused. He looked down at the device and opened his mouth once again to speak, but found himself without words.  
Stanley snorted, elbowing his brother playfully,  
     "You've broken my assistant, Ford."

* * *

  
     They had been walking for about an hour when Fiddleford suddenly gasped,  
     "S-stanley, look!" He pointed excitedly in the direction of a small clearing. Stanley rushed over, eyes wide as a grin spread across his face. He rummaged for his journal,  
     "Ford, you have to see it, hurry! I knew it would come to us! Science /is/ the purest of intentions!"  
     Stanford looked up, seeing his brother and Fiddleford crouched behind a log, as Stanley scrawled notes in one of the journals. He picked his way through the knotted tree roots to where the other two men were hiding.  
     In the clearing stood an eight-foot-tall creature that could only be described as nightmarish. Its skin was green, rough, and sprouting a variety of vegetation. Mushrooms sprung from its shoulders, moss clung to its back, lichens and fungi twisted out of every wrinkle. The head of the beast was massive, which may have contributed to its slumping posture. Tusks the size of Stan's arm emerged from its lips, reaching skyward and resembling a wild boar. It smelled like the bottom of a lake: stagnant, rotten, damp, and when it opened its mouth, it produced the scent of decaying flesh.  
     During his quick evaluation of the beast, the most notable aspect for Stan was that it held no resemblance to a horse whatsoever.  
     "Wait, you're tellin' me that _THAT_  thing is a unicorn?" Stan whispered to the two scientists, suspecting that this was some sort of joke they were playing on him.  
     Instead, he was given a grin from Fiddleford and a hushed confirmation from Stanley,  
     "Yes, that's the unicorn alright."  
     "Uh...sure, alright..I mean, it just seems...bigger than I expected, y'know?" Fiddleford spoke now,  
     "Why it's not that big! I'd say that's about average height for a horse, Stanford." Stan raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word.  
     His eyes scanned the forest around the clearing when he focused on a dark silhouette in the trees. It was camouflaged, but unmistakably equine in shape, with a long, sharp protrusion coming from its head.  
     Surely this was the unicorn, rather than the decidedly gremlin-esque monster that the other two were examining.  
     The creature in the trees turned its head towards him, eyes glowing blue and pupil-less. A chill ran through his body at that moment, and he reached for the Polaroid camera in his brother's bag, quickly snapping a picture of the silhouette.  
     When he turned to show the other two his photo, however, he saw the strange, empty look in their eyes.  
     "Uh...Lee? Fids? You guys feelin' ok?" Neither responded, completely absorbed in the notes they were taking about the creature in the clearing.  
"Listen, nerds, I don't think that thing is the unicorn."  
     Still nothing. Stanford grit his teeth, about ready to snap, when he realized that the device that Fiddleford had been carrying was blinking rapidly. Stan leaned over and picked up the contraption, watching as the needle twitched into the red zone, which he assumed was very, very bad.  
     "Well that can't be good..." He mumbled as he looked up.  
     His brother was standing now, reaching out over the fallen tree, a six-fingered hand outstretched towards the beast in the clearing.

* * *

  
     Stan's first reaction was a string of forceful, but quiet profanities. The monster was staring at Stanley, but staying eerily still. Fiddleford moved to stand up next to Stanley, but Stan quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and yanked him back down.  
     "Lee...Lee we gotta get outta here." Stanley looked over at him in confusion,  
     "What are you talking about? The unicorn is right there, we're not leaving!" Fiddleford nodded in agreement, struggling against Stanford's grip.  
Stan nearly exploded. The device blinked in his hand, an annoying reminder of the hallucination that was threatening their lives.  
     "Lee, you gotta trust me, that thing isn't a unicorn, you're hallucinating! It's a goblin...type..thing, it's gunna eat us if you din't trust me!" He tugged on his brother's coat with his free hand, trying to pull him down.  
     The monster lumbered closer, slow and deliberate. Fallen branches snapped as it picked its way through the undergrowth. Stan tightened his grip around Fiddleford's stomach, but Stanley refused to budge,  
     "You don't know what you're talking about, Ford. You're overreacting as usual." Stan's throat knotted at his words, but he persisted all the same,  
     "Fine. We'll just have to do this the hard way, poindexter."  
     He grabbed the back of his brother's coat collar, yanking him along as he sprinted away from the approaching creature. 

     Stan pulled them behind a crop of bushes, hoping to buy them some time. He kept an arm locked around each of his companions, panting, back pressed hard against the rough bark of the tree. Fiddleford had stopped struggling, but was now seemingly catatonic, staring at the ground with a confused expression and not saying a word. Stanley had taken to ranting about how their research had been ruined and how it was all Stan's fault. Stan was focusing on not punching Stanley's lights out.  
     The footsteps of the approaching creature shook the ground, and the sound of it sniffing the air sent Stan's mind to near panic. He tightened his grip on the two men, hardly daring to breathe now, when suddenly Stanley blinked hard and looked around,  
     "Where..." His voice trailed off as he looked at Stanford.  
     "So here's the short version," he whispered angrily, "You two nerds got possessed or whatever by the unicorn. This weird gremlin...goblin...thing was walkin' past and you two were sayin' /that/ was the unicorn. So now we have to get the hell outta here before that thing turns us into dinner. Got any bright ideas, brainiacs?"  
     Fiddleford began hyperventilating as Stanley sat dumbfounded, muttering something under his breath about how it "didn't make sense". Stanford clenched his fists,  
     "Both of you snap out of it!!" He growled. Stanley looked at his brother and nodded slowly,  
     "I just thought...why didn't it approach me? My intentions were purely--" His sentence dropped off, half formed, as the tree they had taken cover behind was entirely uprooted.  
     The sound was horrible, branches crunching and creaking as their cover was quite literally torn away from them. The roots of the massive tree danced over their heads now, clods of dirt occasionally crashing to Earth, exploding into clouds of dust.  
     The trio sat frozen for a moment, dumbfounded at the sight of the gremloblin before them.  
     Stanley was the first to his feet, yanking quickly at the other two before turning and running. His companions followed suit, sprinting through the trees as the creature let out a head-splitting screech.  
     "There's a cave not too far from here," Stanley panted, pushing himself to keep up with his twin, as the beast lumbered behind them, "we can hide out there until it loses interest!"  
     They followed Stanley's instructions, ducking through thickets of trees and underbrush. The gremloblin, which was far less nimble than the three men, was left a ways behind, allowing them to escape for the time being.  
     Once in the cave, the trio sat, panting, against the cool rock. Stanford crossed his arms over his chest, pointedly not looking at his brother. Stanley sighed,  
     "Ford, why are you angry? This isn't my fault!"  
     "Why the hell didn't it approach you?" He muttered, pushing himself up to a standing position and kicking at the rocks on the cave floor, "What were you planning, Lee?"  
     Fiddleford and Stanley exchanged glances,  
     "We...well, we were going to catch it, Stanford." Fiddleford admitted, as Stanley crossed his arms defiantly. Stan paused, eyes widening very slightly as he at Stanley, who was now standing and rustling through his bag.  
     "You promised," he said, "you said we weren't gonna--"  
     "Well, I DID." Stanford clenched his fists, resisting the urge to punch his brother square in the face,  
     "What about the shapeshifter, moron?? Do you even remember what it did to all of us?! We agreed not to bring anything back anymore!" He punctuated his point with a firm shove, which caused Stanley to stumble back several feet.  
     "I'm the one researching this town, Stanford, I make the decisions," Stanley strode forward, now eye to eye with his twin, " _YOU_  don't get a say in this."  
     Stan looked to Fiddleford, who he had become close with over the course of two years. He'd become fond of the scientist and even recently admitted to himself that perhaps his feelings toward Mcgucket went beyond simply friendship,  
     "Is that how you feel too, nerd?"  
     "N-no, Stanford, of course not!" Fiddleford stood now and swallowed hard before continuing in a stronger voice,  
     "I don't know what's gotten into you two but you need to stop this nonsense! We work together, all three of us, no matter how convoluted the situation."  
     The twins exchanged glances, each one reluctant to let up. Luckily, neither had to, as a low growl resinated through the cave, breaking through the thick layer of silence that had settled over them.  
     The trio ducked behind one of the many stalagmites that dotted the cave floor as the grunting and snorting continued from the entrance. The shadow of the gremloblin slithered over the rock formations as the beast closed in on the three young men, sniffing the air in order to locate them.  
     At that moment, Stanford and Stanley locked eyes, and, with one nod, agreed on a plan. Stanley handed his journal to Fiddleford and motioned for him to make a run for it when the coast was clear. Fiddleford tried to argue against this, but out of fear of the gremloblin hearing him, did not say a word. With that, Stanley crawled off to another part of the cave, and Stanford suddenly hopped out from behind the stalagmite, yelling,  
     "HEY BUTT-BRAIN, YOU WANNA PIECE??"  
     The gremloblin's massive head jerked to the left, staring Stanford down. It took all of Fiddleford's self-restraint not to rush out to help him as the creature took a swipe at him with a clawed hand. Stan skipped back, narrowly avoiding the attack, before diving behind a different rock. Stanley jumped out on the other side of the cave now, flailing his arms,  
     "HERE I AM, OVER HERE, COME GET ME!"  
     The gremloblin stared, confused, but unable to think this through with proper reasoning. It lumbered towards Stanley now, grunting in annoyance, or possibly just out of hunger. The beast took a swing, carving deep lines into the wall of the cave where Stanley's head had been just moments before.  
     As the creature's back was turned, Fiddleford attempted his escape. He was clambering over the final few rocks when his feet suddenly lifted from their surface. Fiddleford yelped and clutched the journal to his chest as the gremloblin lifted him by the back of his jacket. The gremloblin's hot, decaying breath puffed against his skin as his body shook with fear.  
     "FIDS!" The twins yelled in unison, then Stanley's voice alone called out,  
     "FIDDLEFORD, YOUR JACKET!"  
     Mcgucket dropped the journal and yanked his arms through his sleeves, dropping hard to the cave floor and leaving the gremloblin holding only his coat between its claws. Seconds later, Stanford was standing over him, brass knuckles held tight in his raised fists.  
     "You wanna eat this nerd?? You gotta go through me, ya creep!"  
     The gremloblin swiped at Stan, roaring as its claws sliced into the flesh of his raised arms. Stan stumbled back, hissing in pain, but quickly charged forward in retaliation. Fiddleford still lay on the ground, watching in awe as Stanford fought the monster. The mix of fear and amazement froze him in place. Stanley helped his brother take the gremloblin down, subduing it with a sedative that he had intended to give the unicorn.  
     The moment the beast went limp, Stanford rushed over to Fiddleford, blood soaking his shirt,  
     "You ok, nerd?" He knelt beside him, gently helping him sit up.  
Fiddleford nodded slowly,  
     "I'm uh...thank you, Stanford...you sa--"  
     "Yeah, don't mention it." Stan said quickly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. He handed the other man the tweed jacket that had been discarded by the gremloblin.  
     Fiddleford took it and quickly tugged Stan's arm closer, wrapping his jacket around one of the deeper cuts he recieved,  
     "Really Stanford, that was very brave of you..." Stan sat, eyebrows raised and cheeks darkening, as Fiddleford carefully wrapped his arm,  
     "Uh yeah uh...thanks," he cleared his throat, feeling light headed, telling himself it was from blood loss, "So um, you sure you're alright, Fids? You fell pretty far and that thing had you and everything..." Fiddleford finished tying up the makeshift bandage,  
     "Oh, yes yes, i'm quite alright. Just my ankle and--" Before the sentence was finished, Stan had scooped up the scientist in his arms and turned towards Stanley, who was taking notes about the unconscious creature in a back-up notepad,  
     "Hey poindexter, we gotta get a move on before big ugly wakes up."  
Stanley looked up, adjusting his glasses,  
     "Right, of course," he walked over to the other two, "And are you planning on carrying my assistant the whole way?" He smirked and lead the way out of the cave as Stan spurted out come backs behind him.

* * *

  
     Fiddleford complained through most of the first hour of their trek, insisting that Stanford should not be putting so much stress on his wounds. Stan, of course, refused to listen, and the only compromise he was willing to make was to carry Fiddleford piggyback rather than bridal style.  
     By the time they were back at the shack, Stan was pale and dizzy. He set Fiddleford down on the couch before slumping down next to him. Stanley found a first aid kit in the closet and carried it over to them, he considered apologizing to Stan for their earlier argument, but was unable to get himself to say anything. Instead, he simply took the journal from the couch and walked off to the basement.  
     Fiddleford wrapped his ankle securely before turning his attention to Stan,  
     "Oh my, you're paler than a possum, Stanford..." The scientist tended to the various cuts covering Stan's arms and chest, making light conversation as he went along, when suddenly Stanford asked with a sigh,  
     "Fids, d'ya think Stanley's been acting weird?" Fiddleford considered this for a moment, while dabbing antiseptic on a cut,  
     "Well I suppose he has been a tad strange, though I think it must be because he's close to a big break. Surely he'll come 'round once he solves the latest problem."  
     "Yeah, but he's never been like this before. I mean sure, we argue, but he's like, completely lost in whatever the hell he's working on. I dunno Fids. He's scarin' me." Fiddleford looked up at Stan to see his normally cheerful expression wrought with worry. He placed a hand on his shoulder,  
     "I'm sure he'll be alright, Stanford, but right now we need to focus on getting you healed up. And I...I wanted to thank you again for saving me."  
     Stan glanced away,  
     "Yeah, well I only saved you cuz you're technically workin' for my brother and we can't have your family suing us or whatever."  
     "Well you don't have to worry about that, I don't have any family. That's why I have the time to devote to this job." Stan mentally berated himself,  
     "Right. Sorry. It was a, y'know, just a joke. Just figured a smart guy like you would be married or whatever," he paused, "uh, not that I'm sayin' you /SHOULD/ be married, just that I'd expect you to be," he clasped a hand to his forehead in embarrassment, "Not that there's anything wrong with the fact that you're not--" Fiddleford, thankfully, cut him off with a laugh,  
     "Stanford, don't worry, I ain't--er, I'm not angry. I had a wife but it didn't quite work out. We got married for the wrong reasons," he finished applying the last bandage and stood up,"Well seeing as Stanley's disappeared into the basement to work and you need your rest, I'll be on my way."  
     "You could stay for the night," Stan avoided Fiddleford's surprised eye contact, "y'know, I could make up the couch or uh...whatever. If ya want. Since it's late." Fiddleford blushed, fixing his glasses,  
     "Yes I am rather tired, staying over would be the better choice. Thank you, Stanford."  
     Stan immediately went to the closet and pulled out some extra blankets.  
     They spoke for nearly three hours about nothing in particular. Neither of them expected to fall asleep slumped against one another, tv running horror films late into the night.

* * *

 

     Stanley had gone to the basement after leaving his brother and Fiddleford with the first aid kit. He locked the door behind him and flicked on the lights, walking over to the table and looking over the blueprints for the portal, which sat, half-built, on the opposite side of the glass window.  
     "I couldn't get the unicorn blood," he said, though the only response was the gentle hum of machinery. He looked around the space, eyes darting from corner to corner, "Are you there?"  
     A slight crackle snapped through the stagnant air as a form materialized at the other side of the round table,  
     "I'm always here, kid! Omnipresent, remember??" The triangular creature hovered over the chair in a reclining position, arms behind its head, legs crossed, single eye staring at Stanley unsettlingly.  
     "Right, of course. So you knew about the unicorn," the author scratched his head, "I'm sorry it didn't work out, Bill. I know how important it was. Is there some other way to get you back to your dimension? Couldn't you just go directly through the portal when it's done?"  
     "No no no kid, geez, it's like you don't know the first thing about inter-dimensional travel! Luckily ya got me here to teach you!" Bill conjured up blue flames, making shapes in the air to illustrate his story, "Ya see, when that evil dream demon thing that I was talkin' about brought me to your puny little dimension, it trapped me in a vessel to get me through. So the thing is, I also need a vessel in order to go back from whenst I came! Find a meat puppet, stick me in, and i'll be on my way, easy as theoretical physics! It's some weird dimensional rule, kid, trust me on this one."  
Stanley did trust him, naturally. Everything Bill had been telling him for the past three weeks had been true, and Bill himself was, for the most part, a perfect gentleman.  
     "Right, so the unicorn blood was strong enough to have served as a vessel on its own, but what else could we use?"  
     "A living being, Digits! That's the only thing that could contain my ever-expanding, all-powerful form!" Stanley smiled,

     "Simple!" He dashed into the other room, coming back with a lab rat in a small cage. Bill stared down from his hovering position in silence. His eye then darted to Stanley,  
     "Uh, kid. If I were to enter that thing, the sheer expanse of my knowledge would tear its physical form in two so fast that we'd create a black hole that would consume half of this town. And then the other half of this town. And then your entire planet."  
     Stanley blinked, slowly placing the cage on the table,  
     "Ok, so it needs to be a being capable of higher thought. So a human would, theoretically---"  
     "A human being would be PERFECT, Digits! D'y'know where I could get one??" Bill's eye stared at him intensely.  
     "Wait, Bill, is this going to kill someone...?"  
     "Absolutely not, kid! You have my word!"  
     "But...once you go through the portal, won't that person's body be trapped with you? They'll be lost in your dimension..."  
     "No no no, kid, see, you don't know the first thing about vessel embodiment! It's real simple, all you gotta do is tie a rope around the body! Once I'm safely in the dreamscape, I leave the body, tug on the rope, and bing bam boom, you got yourself 200 pounds of grade A human flesh puppet, simple as that!" Stanley nodded,  
     "Yes this...does seems very simple. Now we just need to find you a vessel." He sat down and began jotting down a list of potential vessels. Billed floated over to him, reading over his shoulder, anger boiling within him. In a cheery voice he spoke up,  
     "Say, Digits, just thinkin' out loud here, but you know who has a perfectly viable body for possession? That brother of yours!" Stanley looked up from the paper,  
     "Stanford...? I...I don't know, Bill. This could be dangerous..."  
     "Dangerous??" Bill let out a piercing laugh, "Kid, this is the farthest thing from dangerous! Just think, when you're not watching out for him, I will be! And he'll be back to himself before you know it!" Stanley nodded slowly,  
     "I... Suppose you're right..."  
     "Of course I'm right, Digits! Besides, you'll both get a little break from each other, right? Think of it as a vacation, and everybody wins!"  
     Stanley nodded again,  
     "Alright, let me just run a few tests first, before I break the news."  
     "Sure thing, kid, no problem!" Bill rubbed his hands together as Stanley left. His plan was being put into action, and the results were going to be even better than he'd hoped.


End file.
